This Is Not a Drive By
by I'mtheAlphahearmeRoar
Summary: First kisses happen and Malia's "progress" continues.


**_A Liam imagine for my best friend. Love you Samantha, and hope you like it! (P.S: Sorry I didn't add the sexy times. My muse decided that humour would be best fitted, along with some good ol' Stalia.) _**

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><p>Driving back from Mexico was probably almost as awkward as it had been when we'd been driving there. Well, minus a few people. Derek and Braedon had left for who knows how long, possibly for good, driving off together into the sunset like two lovers from a cliché romance novel. Scott and Kira had left together too, abandoning us on Scott's motorcycle, the Kitsune smiling as she wrapped her arms around her boyfriend's waist, holding on tight as they set off. Then there's us right now. Liam and I at the back of Stiles' Jeep, sitting next to each other silently while Stiles drives with Malia in the passenger seat, both of them more than 5 minutes into their lovesick banter like usual.<p>

"You think they're going to stop anytime soon?" I sigh, leaning back against the seats. Liam doesn't reply. "Liam?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. No. Probably not," Liam murmurs. He's looking a lot like a sad puppy, has been since we left the Church. I wonder why.

"Are you okay?" I ask him softy, wanting to reach my hand out and lay it over his bobbing knee but knowing it'd be weird and, let's face it, make this drive a whole lot more awkward.

Liam looks up at me, his blue eyes as clear as fresh, pure water like they've always been. "I'm all right," he says, confirming my worries. He's lying.

"Liam, if you're not okay… You know you can tell me anything, right?" I'm wandering into dangerous territory, but he's my best friend. I love him too much to _not _ask daring questions that may lead to an even further stiff and uncomfortable drive back home. I'll take whatever happens, knowing that I was courageous enough to speak up as a person who cares.

"I know." Liam nods, smiling. _Forcing _a smile.

"Don't," I snap. His eyes, as well as my own, widen at the tinge of anger in my voice. I bite my lip, look down and curl my fingers into my palm, cursing my mistake of lashing out like that. "Don't fake your feelings, Li. Not with me," I finally manage to whisper.

A light, barely existent caress of fingers over my arm makes my whole body tingle, breath catch in my throat. I glance up, almost afraid, to have it completely wiped away by the gentle, _real_ smile that grazes the edges of Liam's lips.

"I would never do that to you. Never, Sam." His words feel like a promise. _Are _a promise.

I shiver. His fingers haven't left my wrist. I can feel his thumb over my pulse, pressing. The knowledge that he's probably using his werewolf senses, listening to the beat of my heart while his finger maps out one of the sources of the lulling thumps, causes me to swoon in a way I'd never thought possible.

"I know," I breathe.

And then— Then we're kissing.

I don't know who leans in, who kisses who but— Yeah.

We're kissing.

"Your lips are so… so…" Liam's tongue traces them, eyelids fluttering.

"Soft?" I giggle.

Liam bites my bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth. "No." He smirks, deviously. Something I'd never seen him do. "Delicious."

Before I can answer his lips latch onto mine again, locking us together. His hand cups my chin; fingers gripping gently, bring my mouth firmly against his. I try not to moan. Stiles and Malia are _right there_. Liam's tongue swipes over my teeth, flicking along mine. The moan I try to keep inside, muffled slightly, rebounds in the small space we're in.

Liam breaks away, his body shaking. It takes me a few seconds to realize he's laughing.

"_What_," I hiss, trying not to grin. Failing.

"N-N-Nothing," he chuckles. "You're just… a great kisser." His cheeks blush beautifully and he ducks his head. Adorable.

"You are too. Give yourself some credit," I tease, nipping his upper lip. This time, I get him to moan. I snort. "Yeah, and people say _I _can't keep quiet."

"That fact is still proven." I jolt, hand to my chest, swivelling around to see Stiles leering at me from the front. I glare at him, though I can feel my cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "When people try to make out in the back of my Jeep—and believe me. Scott? Yeah, _many _times that guy has used my baby as a kissing booth—they usually tend to keep it down," he snickers.

"Sorry," Liam yelps. His eyes are as frazzled as a woken kitten, lips bruised a shade of red from our _smoochin'_.

"No harm, no foul, buddy. Just, you know…" He waves his hand in the—oh, God—general area of Liam's jeans. "No funky business. Believe it or not, but it takes a lot of time and effort to get c—"

"YOU WILL NOT FINISH THAT SENTENCE, STILES," I shout, absolutely horrified.

"It does." Malia adds her input, calmly, like what she's just said is a normal thing to admit.

Stiles bites down on his lip. _Hard_.

Oh… OH… _Oh no_.

"I better not be sitting where I think I'm sitting," I utter weakly, stomach starting to feel queasy.

"What do you mean?" Malia asks, turning away from me to glance at Stiles, eyebrow raised in confusion. "What does she mean?"

Stiles' eyes widen and he shakes his head at me frantically. I sigh, conveying my you-so-owe-me look towards Stiles before smiling sweetly at Malia.

"Nothing, it's nothing. Don't worry."

"O—kay," Malia says slowly. She's still confused but, thankfully, changes the subject. "How long 'til home? You promised that when we got home we'd do the heavy breathing thing."

Oh yes, she changes the subject to something even more uncomfortable.

_Heavy breathing thing? _I mouth at Stiles, who's starting to look a little pale. Scratch that. A _lot _pale.

"Yeah… I'm… Um…" Stiles chokes on words. It's hilarious to watch. "Ha. Yeah. I got nothing," Stiles coughs, scratching the back of his head.

"Exactly," I mutter, low enough that Stiles doesn't hear but Liam does. He quirks an eyebrow in my direction, smiling weakly. "Oh shush, you," I whisper, elbowing him in the side. He bends forward with the jab, lips still pulled up in that shy little curve.

"So no heavy breathing thing?"

Malia's face is priceless. It has me joining Liam, my body folding together as a manic cackle leaves my lips.

"N-No, Malia. No, uh, no heavy breathing thing," Stiles splutters.

Malia pouts.

"Progress. This is progress, Stiles," I mock.

The Jeep swerves a bit to the side before Stiles regains control, cursing under his breath as his fingers start tap tap tapping a relentless pattern on the wheel.

Liam and I manage a high-five between our loud, soulful laughter.

Safe to say, the rest of the drive back was a hoot and a howl.

Hah ha.

_Howl_.


End file.
